


shatterpoint

by ADreamingSongbird



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: (and gets one!), Ash Lynx Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon Fix-It, Trans Okumura Eiji, of a sort?, two boys each think their first kiss (for a ruse) hurt the other. what happens next will shock you!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADreamingSongbird/pseuds/ADreamingSongbird
Summary: "I was wondering.” Eiji even smiles. “Would you like it if I kissed you?"And everything goes wrong.A long-overdue conversation, one rainy day in Japan.
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 54
Kudos: 209





	shatterpoint

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, mentions of rape, panic attacks/guilt spirals, unreliable narrator ft. victim blaming, mentions of minor character death.
> 
> I think that's it, but if I forgot any, please don't hesitate to tell me!

As many things do, it starts with something simple. A question, in this case—just an innocent, tiny, little _yes-or-no_ question on a stormy afternoon.

They sit side by side, watching the rain pitter-patter against the glass. "Hey, Ash," Eiji says, his voice soft but light. "Can I ask you something?'

Ash glances over at him and snorts. "Just did, didn't you?"

Eiji swats his shoulder, but he doesn't crack any jokes or call Ash annoyingly pedantic, which is a shame because then Ash could ask him where he learned that word. Instead, he just huffs and puffs out his cheeks in that way that means he's actually thinking, and Ash stills. Whatever it is, it's a serious question. 

A heartbeat passes. Later, Ash will look back at this moment, this beat of silence as the rain falls outside and washes away the world, and he will think that he should have savored it more: the last moment before the dam broke. The last easy breath of air before the flood.

And then Eiji says it, his voice far too light for words that take something inside of Ash and snap it with a sickening _crack_.

"I was wondering.” Eiji even smiles. “Would you like it if I kissed you?"

And everything goes wrong.

Immediately, Ash furrows his brow, giving Eiji a strange look. Something unpleasant sinks into the pit of his stomach. Kiss him? Him, of all people? "Why the hell would you wanna do that?"

Eiji flounders for a second, ducking his head. "I--I mean, I would want to as a way to… be affectionate, I suppose? But only if you also want that! Because if you do not want it, it is not really a very good way of showing you affection, which is why I asked! You can say no, it is okay! I won’t be upset!"

A way to show affection? The icky something in Ash's stomach turns. That's… that's not what kisses are for. Kisses are for control and intimidation and for _taking_. If Eiji were to try and kiss him, Ash would just be taking from him. 

(Again.)

The unpleasant, dirty feeling in the pit of his stomach grows. He shakes his head, mutely, and pulls away from Eiji's side, to lean against the other side of the couch. "No. I don't want that."

For half a second, a flash of _hurt_ crosses Eiji's face, and he lowers his head, staring at his lap miserably. Ash watches him in confusion; he just said he doesn’t mind if Ash says no, so why is he upset? Did he expect Ash to say yes? 

Why does he _want_ to kiss Ash?

"Ash," Eiji says, his voice low. "You know I would never force you, right? I would never touch you in _any_ way you do not want me to. I promise, if you don't want me to kiss you, I will not. Please don't… be afraid of me."

What? 

_ Oh.  _ Oh, Eiji. Ash understands now, but it almost makes him laugh, because god, that couldn’t be further from the problem. That's not it at all. 

"I know, it--it's not that," Ash tells him, wrapping his arms around himself. He looks away, staring at the windowpane, and digs his fingers into the flesh of his upper arms. "I know you wouldn't, stupid. I'm not scared of you. I… it's _me."_

Eiji lifts his head, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Ash snorts. What does he mean, indeed? Of course Eiji doesn't get it. It haunts Ash every waking hour, a ghost leering in his footsteps, a monster in the mirror. 

The monster is him.

"I don't deserve you." It's a statement of fact. This, Ash knows. It's not even the full explanation, but before he can keep going, Eiji is already shaking his head. 

"That's not true, Ash!" he insists, his fingers curling slightly in his lap, like a memory of stubborn fists. "You are good, and I _want_ you. That is enough for me."

Ash pushes himself off the couch, suddenly too restless to keep sitting at Eiji's side even if they're not touching, and the inches between them span miles. Outside, thunder rumbles again as he begins to pace. 

"Well, it's not good enough for _me,"_ he replies, and folds his arms over his chest. "I don't deserve you, because I'll hurt you if you let me, because I'm the same as the guys who hurt me. They were monsters, and they made me into a monster. I don't know how you don't see it."

Eiji looks pained, now, shaking his head. "You are not a monster, Ash. You are _nothing_ like them. You are good. You are here, with me! You would not be if you did not know I am right, at least on some level.” He narrows his eyes. “So. What is it? Where is this coming from?"

Oh. That _stings_. 

It stings because it's true, in the way that things Eiji says about him are often true, because Eiji is uncannily discerning when he wants to be, and yet he manages to miss the truth entirely at the same time. Ash stares at him for a second, then scoffs and looks away. 

"Yeah. I know. On some level, I know that you believe in me being better than I am. And I also know that I don't deserve that."

"Ash." Eiji looks so concerned now. Ash could scream. 

He doesn't deserve this. He's been trying and trying to ignore it and it comes out now anyway, here to ruin what was a perfectly normal day before. Maybe he’s just a fool. He shouldn't have thought he could run forever; of course it would come out, sooner or later. 

He _hates_ himself for it. 

“It’s nothing,” he tries to say, but his voice is less _hard_ and more _brittle_. 

Fragile. Ready to break. Riddled with shatterpoints. Just like he always is.

"Oh, my sweet Ash,” Eiji murmurs, tilting his head. “What is on your mind? There is something specific bothering you. Isn't there?" His big eyes are wide with worry, worry that Ash doesn't deserve because he's a _fucking monster_ the same as the rest of them, and suddenly Ash has to turn his back to keep himself from breaking down in tears. 

He stares at the fat raindrops rolling down the windowpane. "Don't call me that."

"Call you what? Sweet?" Eiji asks softly. 

“I don’t deserve it.” Ash takes a breath. Blows it out. He can’t look at Eiji, or else…

"Ash, you are scaring me. What’s wrong?"

And now he's scaring Eiji, because he can't do fucking anything right when it comes to Eiji and what Eiji deserves. Ash wants to scream. He wants to tear his own heart out and stomp it into the mud and rainwater; if it would stop beating, he wouldn't feel so… so…

...Trapped.

There's an irony here, an irony so bitter it tastes of the metallic tang of blood, in the way that loving Eiji felt like freedom for so long. Felt like laughter at shitty jokes and shared hot dogs outside the library and love letters that made him weep. Felt like promises kept and secret smiles. Felt like a bird finally leaving its cage to taste the sky for the first time. 

And now he's trapped. Not by Eiji, but by his own mind. Because he can't run from being the monster that he is, but confronting it means breaking Eiji's heart, and he _hates_ both options because both of them are so, so unfair to Eiji. Ash doesn't care what the world does to him, but Eiji—

_ Eiji _ deserves better than this. 

Because what it comes down to is that Blanca was right. Ash is a selfish creature, who thought Eiji's love could save him from his own nature. _He doesn’t exist for your salvation!_ And Ash thought that wasn’t true, that that was never what they were, that he could leave everything behind. And he hid from the truth and his own actions and now he’s here, and the ugliness inside him that he thought he could leave behind has finally caught up.

Blanca was right. Ash should have stayed in hell until he killed either Dino or himself. 

He starts to cry. 

"Ash?" Eiji sounds so worried behind him now, but Ash _can't_ turn around to face him, not while filled with this much shame and frustration. 

He digs his nails into the shitty, useless skin of his pathetic arms, relishing the sting in some twisted way as the tears roll down his cheeks. He deserves the pain. He's a monster, and he's no better than the men who shaped him into one. They clawed at him, and cut and scraped and chipped him away, until all that was left was something jagged and cruel, something that would only hurt anything it ever touched. He's a monster.

He's a monster, and he _hurt Eiji_ , and Eiji doesn't even blame him for it. 

He doesn't deserve Eiji's forgiveness. 

"Oh, Ash, I am sorry, okay? I won't kiss you, I promise. You can pretend I never asked. It is okay, I will not! You are safe, please don't be upset, oh, Ash--Ash, why are you crying? Please—"

"Eiji!" Ash sobs, whipping around to glare at him for a second with a vehemence that dies immediately as he sees the worry in Eiji's face. Eiji is _worried_ about him, and he responds like this?

The monster in the mirror meets his eyes every time he looks at himself. The monster is him. 

"I _told_ you! It's—it's not you! I—I don't fucking deserve—you forgave me without even _questioning_ and I don't deserve it because I'm—I'm—"

_ I'm the same as Dino,  _ he tries to say, but some selfish part of him that doesn't want to face the truth balks so hard that the words catch in his throat and make him choke. 

"Ash," Eiji murmurs, his voice soft and loving and so, so worried. "What are you talking about? What did I forgive you for?"

_ "I kissed you!"  _ The words taste vile, poisonous as they leave his lips. "I kissed you and I touched you and I didn't even fucking care that I didn't ask first! I knew you were kind and you were worried about me and I just fucking _used_ you like they always used me! I knew you would help if I asked, so I just did that shit to you, and I knew you wouldn't complain! And you didn't! And you even helped me! After I fucking did that to you--"

He breaks off because of a loud, humiliating sob, one that makes him cover his mouth with both hands to try and force himself to quiet. Eiji shouldn't have to comfort him over this. Eiji shouldn't have to comfort him over _anything_. 

"How can you even stand to fucking _look at me?"_

His voice is an ugly, ragged thing. His skin crawls with self-loathing; he wants to claw it off, his mind filled with flashes of disturbing, violent thoughts of red, red blood. He's a monster he's a monster he's a monster he's a _monster_. 

"Oh, _Ash,"_ Eiji breathes, and for a moment, Ash is terrified he's going to get up and wrap his arms around him. He's not strong enough to pull away again; he would clutch desperately at Eiji and sob in his arms and let him hold him. 

But he doesn't deserve to. 

Luckily, Eiji doesn't; he shifts uneasily on the sofa like he wants to, but then he just shakes his head. "Ash, you did not hurt me. You did not do anything wrong--"

"Oh, yeah?" Ash laughs bitterly, maybe a little hysterically. His heart is in his throat and his chest is tight and he wants to disappear, and the idea that he didn't do anything wrong is fucking hilarious. "Then tell me why that therapist you're so glad I'm seeing said that it _was_ sexual assault every time someone kissed me and groped me when I didn't want them to?! How am I _any fucking different_ , Eiji—"

"Ash, that's not—"

"No! It is! It's the exact same—"

He breaks off, shaking his head wildly. His heart is trying to beat out of his chest and his head is so fuzzy with panic (he's trapped he's trapped he's trapped) and he can't _think._

"You shouldn't have to try and comfort me about this!" he cries. "I'm the one who hurt _you!_ I'm--god, Eiji, I know it doesn't fix fucking any of it but I'm sorry, I am so fucking sorry, I don't deserve your forgiveness and you don't have to give it to me, okay? You don't have to! You can hate me and reject me if you want to! You can hit me or—"

_ "Ash!"  _

Ash stops. He feels dizzy with horror and panic and self-hatred; he can't stop hyperventilating. 

"Ash, come here," Eiji says, and Ash is a broken thing with sharp edges, but he goes. He can't stop trembling, but his knees are glad for the break; they give out before he makes it to the sofa, and he sits down hard on the floor at Eiji's feet. 

He closes his eyes, swimming in shame. Is he really going to make Eiji comfort him for even this? 

_ Blanca was right _ , he thinks, miserable. _Blanca was right._

"I'm sorry," he whispers. A tear drops from his chin onto his shirt. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Eiji sighs deeply. "May I touch you?" he asks, and Ash's shoulders hike up immediately. He doesn't want Eiji to have to comfort him when he's the one who's a monster; he used Eiji, and that admission hangs uncomfortably in the air between them. 

He used Eiji because he knew Eiji was kind and would help him. And now, because Eiji is kind, Eiji is trying to help him again. Ash is fucking scum. 

"You can say no," Eiji murmurs. "I just really want to hold you right now. But you can always say no."

Ash hesitates. If Eiji wants to touch him, who is he to say no? But at the same time, he can't bear the idea of making Eiji hold him and soothe him just because he feels guilty for hurting Eiji. That's not fair to Eiji. 

Blanca was right. Blanca was right. Blanca was right.

After several heartbeats, Ash shuffles a little closer and slowly, hesitantly lowers his head, until his forehead bumps Eiji's knee. He rests there like that, silent tears streaming down his cheeks; Eiji's fingers very, very gently start to stroke his hair. His touch feels like the forgiveness that Ash doesn't deserve. 

Thunder rumbles outside again. Eiji’s fingers comb through his hair. "You want to know something, Ash?" 

Oh, god, Eiji's voice is so gentle. Oh, _god._ Ash's heart splinters, and he starts to cry harder, panicked and exhausted at the same time. 

Eiji rubs a slow circle into the back of his head. "It is not that you hurt me. I never asked you about that kiss because _I_ felt guilty about it." 

What? _Eiji_ felt guilty? No, no. Ash shakes his head, opens his mouth to protest that it was never Eiji's fault, that Ash was the one to blame, but Eiji shushes him gently. 

"Shhh. Let me finish. Do you know why I felt guilty?" Eiji's fingertips scrunch against his scalp, affectionate, and Ash closes his eyes as more hot tears leak past his eyelashes. "Because I think you do not know. I felt guilty because I _liked_ it, Ash."

_ What? _

Ash's head snaps up, and he stares at Eiji, shocked. He… he liked it? But that means… no, but it was still _bad,_ but… but then it… did it count as… if Eiji liked it, was it…?

Eiji smiles at him and cups his cheek so, so tenderly that tears well up in Ash’s eyes all over again. Eiji’s thumb caresses them away when they fall.

"I liked it,” he repeats. “No one ever kissed me before, and you saved my life, and you were so _gentle_ with me. And I thought, oh, wow. This is what that feels like? And I liked how it felt. And then I felt horrible for liking it, because you were in such a terrible place, being watched all the time, where that was the only way you could think of to pass me a message securely. You were trying to keep Skipper's death from being in vain--"

Ash flinches.

Eiji falters, then leans down and wraps his arms around his shoulders, tucking Ash's face into his neck. He’s warm, and his hands are gentle. Ash doesn’t deserve gentle touches, does he? He deserves to be beaten and punished and hurt for daring to defile Eiji, for taking advantage of Eiji’s kindness. 

But Eiji is too kind to ever raise a hand to him, and instead he holds him, and Ash knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he’s too weak to pull away.

He hates himself so much it bubbles up in his chest, thick and vile and nauseating. He could choke on his own self-loathing. And yet Eiji holds him and holds him and doesn’t push him away. How could Eiji like that kiss? How… it doesn’t make sense. But Eiji wouldn’t lie, not about this. Ash’s head spins, and he can’t stop crying.

Eiji’s hand settles over the back of his neck, protective, and Ash chokes on his own tears. Eiji wants to protect him, even now, and he can’t understand _why._

"My sweet Ash. Oh, _Ash_ … Listen to me.” Eiji’s fingers stroke tenderly through the silky hairs at the base of Ash’s head. It’s more soothing than it has any right to be. “When I say that you did not hurt me, I mean it. After you opened up to me more, I just—I felt horrible for wishing you might kiss me again, because I was scared it was bad for you. Just another time you had to force yourself to touch someone to protect yourself or someone else. That is why I never said anything, Ash. Not because you hurt me in any way. I _promise_."

That…

That isn't…

He can't be…

How could it have not hurt him? He _liked_ it? And most mindboggling of all, he thought that it hurt Ash?

“No!” Ash bursts out, his chest so tight that it _hurts_. “No, no no no! You—you didn’t—no! It wasn’t bad for me, it—I—kissing you was heaven compared to the guys who—” 

Guilt slams into him like a physical punch, knocking the breath from his lungs and freezing him solid. What the fuck is wrong with him?! How _dare_ he even put kissing Eiji in the same sentence as getting raped in the library by Garvey and his lackeys?

“I’m sorry,” Ash gasps out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he clutches at Eiji’s leg desperately, suddenly terrified as he looks up at Eiji with fright. Eiji is nothing like them, and kissing Eiji was _nothing_ like kissing those men, and how could Ash even suggest—how could he? How could he! “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!”

“Ash! Hey, Ash, it’s okay, it’s okay, shhh. It’s okay!” Eiji cups his chin in one hand, wiping his tears away with the other. “What are you apologizing for? You did not do anything wrong.”

He doesn’t get it! Ash shakes his head, trembling violently. “I did! I did, I—I just compared kissing you with the prison rape, I—I didn’t mean—I shouldn’t have—I’m _sorry!”_

Eiji’s brows knit together, and he shakes his head as he wipes Ash’s tears away, even though he must know that it’s a futile task, and they keep falling. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft and gentle in a way Ash doesn’t deserve. “I am not upset with you, my Ash.”

“B-but—but you were nothing like them,” Ash sobs. “And I said—and I said that—you were the best kiss I ever had and I said—I said _that!”_

“The best…” Eiji repeats, and then he cups Ash’s face in both hands and looks at him, soft and so adoring that Ash cries harder. “Did kissing me hurt you?”

“No!” Ash cries, distraught. “I hurt _you!”_

“No, you did not.” Eiji strokes his thumbs along Ash’s cheekbones. “Like I just told you, my Ash. You did not hurt me. I thought I hurt you. I am really glad to know I did not.”

Ash stares up at him, trembling, frozen in disbelief. How can… how can it possibly be that he didn’t hurt Eiji? How could Eiji ever think he hurt _Ash?_

Eiji keeps stroking his cheeks, his gaze tender. “I… am very sorry you had to endure so much cruelty while you were there, though. You did not deserve that.”

No, no. Ash shakes his head, breathing out slowly. He’s still shaking. None of this makes sense. “I did deserve it,” he manages, hoarse. Eiji’s brows immediately furrow, and he opens his mouth to argue, but Ash shakes his head again. “I asked for it. I let them. Didn’t fight. Needed to get sent to the infirmary to get a pill capsule.”

“You _what?”_

Eiji’s face is the picture of _horror._ His voice is shocked, his eyes wide; for a moment, he just _stares_ at Ash, who stares back, tears streaming down his cheeks. Did he say something wrong? He was just—he just had to explain why he did deserve it; why is… why he… but why is Eiji…

He’s shivering so violently he can feel his teeth clacking against each other as he tries to talk. Before he can manage so much as a word, Eiji leans down and wraps his arms around his shoulders and hugs him, _tight._

“My Ash,” he breathes, and Ash goes limp against him, trembling and distraught. “Oh, my darling, my sweet Ash, my dearest heart, I am so, _so_ sorry. My Ash. My angel.”

Ash shudders in his arms, gasping for breath, and abruptly bursts into a fresh round of tears. He clutches at Eiji's shoulders and sobs, shaking his head brokenly, his chest so tight with emotion that it physically hurts. 

"Eiji," he cries, hoarse and broken. "Eiji, Eiji, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry!"

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Eiji rubs his back, holding him fiercely; Ash feels so safe in his embrace that he cries harder. “You have done _nothing_ wrong. Nothing. You never hurt me. I am so sorry you were hurt, there. I wish—I wish I could have protected you.”

Protected _him?_

Eiji did that before. A couple of times. He’s saved Ash’s life, saved him and brought him out of the pits of Hell itself. Eiji wants to protect him, even now?

Ash sobs again, clinging to him like a lifeline. “I—I— _Eiji,”_ he sobs, because Eiji doesn’t want him to apologize, and Eiji says he never hurt him, and Eiji wants to _protect_ him. He can’t wrap his head around it all. 

"I am here, Ash!" Eiji rubs his shoulders and squeezes him tight, loving and tender. "It's okay, shhh, it's okay. I am right here. I’ve got you, my darling. It's okay. Here, come here. Let me help. Yeah, there you go… Lean on me, that's it."

He helps Ash clumsily, weakly climb back up onto the sofa, where Ash collapses in his arms and sobs and sobs into his shoulder. He cries like a wild, broken thing, loud and painful and pathetic; he can't quite reconcile all the thoughts he's been having with Eiji's admission of his own guilt, and the only way he knows to respond to that dissonance is by sobbing his heart out until it shatters. 

He cries, and cries, and cries. His head pounds, his throat aches, and his chest hurts, by the time his sobs slow to sniffles; his eyes are puffy and swollen, and his cheeks are red and blotchy. There’s—oh, this is fucking gross, he got snot all over Eiji’s shirt, snot and tears in a little wet patch all over Eiji’s shoulder and chest, god, how does Eiji put up with—

“Hey,” Eiji murmurs, and cups his cheek. When Ash hesitantly looks up, to meet his gaze, he falters; there is so much pure, unadulterated adoration shining in Eiji’s eyes that he… he can’t…

He sniffles again, piteous, and croaks out a rough “Hey.”

Eiji smiles at him, stroking his tear-stained cheek, and then leans in and very, very softly presses his lips to Ash’s forehead. He’s done that a few times before, and just like every time, it takes Ash’s breath away; in this most fragile of moments, he audibly gasps, his chest going _tight_ again.

Eiji liked when he kissed him. And Eiji kisses him, like this, to… to show him affection. That was why he said he wanted to kiss Ash at all, earlier, when Ash asked him. It feels like it didn’t actually hit him, or sink in, or whatever, until just now; he didn’t understand what Eiji meant by _a way to be affectionate_ until this moment, as the rain pours outside and lightning flashes and thunder rumbles far in the distance. Eiji’s hand is so warm against his cheek, and Eiji’s face shines with so much love that it’s utterly undeniable.

“Feeling a little better?” Eiji’s voice is just as soft as the look in his eyes. Another tear rolls down Ash’s cheek, but before it can drip from his chin, Eiji thumbs it away.

“Little bit,” Ash manages hoarsely. “…Got your shirt all gross. Sorry.”

And Eiji laughs. 

_ Laughs. _

After everything, after the tears and the pain, after admitting that this whole time, he’s carried the guilt of thinking he hurt _Ash_ back then, Eiji laughs anyway.

Ash stares, utterly transfixed. How did he… how does he do that?

“It’s _fine,_ silly.” Eiji kisses his forehead again, soft and sweet, and nuzzles his temple, holding him close. “We have a washing machine. It is just a shirt. I don’t care. Here, look.”

Eiji lets go of him for a moment, and Ash does his very best to pretend that his entire soul doesn’t cry out at the loss of his touch. He just sits there, a weepy mess, as Eiji grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it over his head, pulling it off entirely. It gets caught on one of his hands, and then Ash gets to watch the ludicrous sight of Eiji flapping his arm until his shirt goes flying off over the side of the couch, out of view.

Eiji grins at him, planting his hands proudly on his hips. “See? Who cares about some dumb shirt! Now come here. I am not done hugging you.”

“My face is all gross and you want it on your bare skin now?” Ash mutters, but he comes forward into the circle of Eiji’s arms again. He can’t _not;_ he’s drawn to Eiji’s warmth as a moth to a flame. As he nestles his cheek against Eiji’s bare shoulder, he can’t help but wonder—is this the kind of warmth Icarus felt, minutes before his wings melted and he fell into the sea?

“Yes, dumbass.” Eiji’s arms settle around him, heavy and solid and secure. 

Ash’s breath shudders in his chest, and slowly, he slips his arms about Eiji’s waist. Eiji’s skin is so warm; he shivers as the bare skin of his arms brushes against Eiji’s back. 

“That’s it, dearest,” Eiji murmurs, and Ash’s eyes are closed, but he can hear him smiling. “There you go. Hold onto me. I am here.”

“You can’t call me ‘dumbass’ in one sentence and ‘dearest’ in the next,” Ash tries to complain, but his voice is soft and breathy and weak. He’s too fragile, too busy sinking in Eiji’s arms to be truly petulant, and they both know it.

Eiji’s fingers twine into his hair, massaging his scalp again in that tender way that makes him melt. Ash’s heart lurches in his chest, and for an instant his throat closes again as his eyes burn, but he manages to swallow the tears down this time. Eiji is just so, so gentle with him; every touch exudes so much love that Ash hardly knows what to do with himself.

“Would you prefer them in the same sentence?” Eiji’s still smiling, as he strokes Ash’s hair. “I can do that for you, dumbass dearest.”

Ash just snorts, a half-choked, disgustingly wet snort thanks to all the congestion from crying. Ugh.

Eiji’s fingers pause in his hair. “…Do you want my shirt? You could blow your nose.”

“Gross,” Ash mutters, even though he’s seen much, much grosser things. 

Eiji huffs. “We are going to put it in the wash anyway! You might as well.”

“Sometimes, you really make it obvious you’re a jock. Would rather just wash my face.” Ash sighs. He doesn’t want to peel himself away from Eiji, but the idea of washing his face, blowing his nose, and drinking a glass of water to alleviate his aching head is very alluring. “Ugh.”

“Mm? Okay. Let’s do that.” Eiji gives him a gentle squeeze, and Ash supposes that means he’d better get up, then, as reluctant as he is.

Except that Eiji stands, smiles down at him, and then with no preamble, scoops him up, bridal-style. Ash yips, startled, and latches onto his shoulders, eyes wide, and Eiji laughs and nuzzles his temple, hefting him in his arms.

“What are you looking so surprised for?” he teases, his voice warm and honeyed. “I thought it is obvious that I am a jock, right? You know I can carry you, silly.”

Ash does know that. Eiji’s done it before. He just… he just wasn’t expecting it, and something about it makes him curl in closer to Eiji’s chest, feeling small and clingy. He just wants…

He wants. Is he allowed to want?

Eiji carries him to the bathroom, then sets him down so he can wash his face. Ash half-expects him to leave to go pick his shirt up off the living room floor, but he doesn’t; he stays, his hand resting warm against Ash’s back as Ash blows his nose and scrubs the tears from his cheeks with warm water.

By the time he’s finished, he’s exhausted, and his head is pounding. He’ll get some water in a minute, and maybe some painkillers, but… for now, he wants to sit for a second. He all but collapses onto the side of the bathtub, face in his hands, and—

“Ash?” Eiji’s arms slide around his shoulders, rubbing up and down his back. “Are you okay?”

Tentatively, Ash leans his forehead against Eiji’s bare chest, dropping his arms to loosely hold the sides of Eiji’s sweatpants. Is this okay?

Eiji draws him into his embrace without batting an eyelash; he doesn’t even care that Ash’s cheeks are still damp, his arms tight around him. One of his hands rests over the back of Ash’s neck, a gesture so small and yet so protective that Ash shivers.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, a few seconds late. “Just… need a minute.”

“That’s okay,” Eiji murmurs, and drops a kiss to the top of his head. Another kiss, for affection, not for control or taking or hurting. “Take all the time you need, my sweet Ash.”

_ My sweet Ash.  _ Eiji calls him that a lot. Ash… really likes it when he does. _Dearest_ is more recent, but he’s found that he really likes that, too. Words of love in Eiji’s voice sound so different than they ever did before.

“…Did you mean it?” he mumbles, eyes closed. He can hear Eiji’s heart beating under his ear. It’s soothing.

“Mean what?” Eiji’s voice is soft. 

Ash takes a breath. Lets it out. “That… you liked it. When I kissed you.”

“Yes.” Eiji’s… smiling? His voice sounds like he’s smiling, and Ash nearly opens his eyes to check, but then Eiji starts to stroke his hair again, and he sinks into his embrace instead. 

_ I’m here,  _ his heart beats in his chest. _I’m here. I’m here. I’m here._

“I… you know, Ash? I really liked you, even back then.” Eiji _is_ smiling. Ash can hear it. His heart is in his throat. “Not necessarily like _this,_ I mean—I didn’t know you well enough to love you like this, yet. But you saved my life, even when I was just a stranger who got in the way, and… And even though I was so naïve and useless for everything happening, you were so kind to me. You never even once thought about throwing me to the wolves to save your skin.”

“That’s not—that’s just basic fucking decency,” Ash mumbles, and takes a shaky little breath. He manages to wrap his arms about Eiji’s waist again, though, pressing his face into Eiji’s chest, and Eiji kisses the top of his head. It makes Ash’s heart flutter.

“Basic decency that a lot of people in your position might have lacked.” Eiji strokes his hair. “I liked you a lot, and I respected you, and I was grateful to you. To be honest, when you kissed me, before I realized you were even asking me for help, I was—this is a little embarrassing, but I will give you a free pass to laugh at me, just this once, okay?”

Eiji laughs, but Ash holds his breath. He doesn’t think he’s going to laugh. He might cry again, though.

“I felt honored.” Eiji scrunches his fingers through his hair. “I felt so honored that someone as lovely and noble and kind as you might have been interested in me. Then I realized you were asking me for help, and I still felt honored, just in a different way.”

Eiji felt… _honored?_

That kiss…

Ash opens his eyes. At this angle, he can’t see Eiji’s face; he can only see his chest, and for a moment, he just stares at Eiji’s skin. There’s a little freckle on the right side of his sternum, a tiny, medium brown spot a few inches from his nipple, almost but not quite in line with his top surgery scars. They’re faded and brown, too, almost like shadows beneath his pectoral muscles; there’s another scar, further up Eiji’s chest, from Shorter’s knife in his awful last moments.

Ash blinks to clear the thought from his mind’s eye. He doesn’t want to think of that right now. He can’t. He’s sorry, Shorter. 

He blinks again, and takes a breath, and blinks a few more times as his eyes prickle with tears again, and—

Eiji giggles. “Hey, that tickles,” he complains, and kisses the top of Ash’s head again. He keeps doing that today, and Ash feels so strangely cherished every time. “Your eyelashes tickle, when you blink.”

Ash lifts his head and looks up at him, feeling incredibly vulnerable—Eiji could shatter him with one word, right now, if he wanted—and yet incredibly _safe._ Eiji wouldn’t.

“You really…” he starts, trails off, and licks his lips, nervous. “You really—I didn’t hurt you? Really?”

Eiji’s face softens all over again, and he cradles Ash’s face in one hand, tender and adoring. “Really,” he murmurs, and leans down, so that they’re forehead-to-forehead. Their noses brush, and Ash’s breath catches in his throat. “You didn’t hurt me at all. You have never hurt me. You know what? Here, Ash, how’s this: If you ever do hurt me, I _promise_ I will tell you. I promise.” 

A heartbeat passes. Later, Ash will look back at this moment, this beat of silence as the rain falls outside and washes away the world, and he will think that he has never been so lucky as he was to have Eiji stumble into his life. 

Because Eiji doesn’t tell him _you could never hurt me,_ or _stop worrying about it,_ or something kind but ultimately unhelpful in the face of his fears; Eiji tells him _if your fears come to pass, if you do hurt me like you are afraid you might, I will not suffer in silence as you fear. I will tell you._

_ I will not let you be afraid alone. _

Ash hugs him fiercely. 

He flings his arms around Eiji and crushes him to himself so abruptly that Eiji lets out a little squeak in surprise before he hugs back, his fingers stroking through Ash’s hair again. Ash buries his face in his shoulder and feels his heart beating, beating, beating; the rain pours outside, but in here, the winds are calm, and Eiji’s heartbeat is a shelter. A harbor away from the storm.

“Thank you,” he breathes. _I love you,_ he doesn’t say.

“You are welcome, my Ash,” Eiji murmurs. _I love you too,_ he doesn’t answer.

They stay like that, clinging to each other with a quiet desperation, for a minute. Two. Ash feels himself relaxing in Eiji’s arms, tension draining from his shoulders until he’s slumped into Eiji’s chest, arms still thrown around him. Eiji is warm, and his heartbeat is strong and steady.

Honored. He felt _honored_ that Ash kissed him. The idea is ridiculous, but he knows Eiji would never lie about something like that.

Ash didn’t hurt him. He’s so relieved he could be sick.

He didn’t hurt Eiji. Maybe Blanca wasn’t right, after all. His head is too muddled to accept that in full yet, but… maybe. A maybe is as good as he’ll get, right now.

Eiji rubs his back, then gently taps his shoulder, cradling his head in his arms. “Ash, dear?”

“Mm?”

Eiji hums softly, swaying him in his arms for a moment. “Can I carry you to the kitchen? You should drink some water. You cried a lot.”

“Yeah,” Ash agrees, because he did cry a lot; he realizes a second later that it’s also a _yeah_ to whether Eiji can carry him, because Eiji’s eyes sparkle, and then he leans down to gather Ash into his arms again.

Eiji _likes_ carrying him. He doesn’t know why, but Eiji likes to fuss and take care of him. He doesn’t really feel like he deserves it, most of the time, but if it makes Eiji happy, who is he to complain?

Eiji sets him on the counter like he’s a little kid, and Ash almost, almost smiles at the thought, swinging his legs back and forth. Eiji does smile, hugs him again briefly, and then fills a glass with water.

“Here,” he says, and presses it into Ash’s hands. “Drink.”

Ash drinks. It’s cool and refreshing, and he means to drink slowly and take his time, but the next thing he knows, he’s drained the entire glass. His throat feels better for it, and after a moment or two, so does his head. It’s a relief.

“Want more?” Eiji asks, but Ash shakes his head _no,_ and Eiji sets the glass aside for him. “Okay. Do you want tea?”

Tea. It might be soothing, and nice, given how stormy it is outside, but right now, Ash just… he doesn’t know. “Maybe later,” he defers, and ducks his head a little. He just wants to be close to Eiji for a little while, like when he sat on the side of the bathtub and Eiji held him.

Eiji nods, understanding, and reaches up to cup his cheek. “Okay! Want me to take you to our room?”

“I can walk,” Ash mumbles, a little embarrassed. He feels so _needy_ now, like all that crying scraped him raw and he’s floundering for something, anything to soothe the sting.

“You can,” Eiji agrees. “Do you want to? Or do you want me to carry you?”

Eiji always does that. Asks what Ash _wants._ He’s still getting used to that, even after living with him in Japan for months. It’s strange.

Shyly, Ash stares at the tile flooring for a few heartbeats. “Um…”

Eiji, wonderful Eiji, understands, and with that same soft smile as earlier, he opens his arms. He always hears the things Ash doesn’t say, and Ash will always be grateful. “Okay, my Ash. Come here.”

Ash wraps his legs around Eiji’s hips and his arms around his shoulders, letting Eiji gather him into his embrace again. Maybe it’s silly of him to want to be carried around like this, but it’s somehow just like the kisses; it makes him feel bizarrely cared-for. And the warmth of Eiji’s bare skin radiates through Ash’s thin T-shirt, and he doesn’t want Eiji to let go. 

Eiji sets him down on the bed, and before Ash even has to ask, he plops down next to him and lets Ash tentatively curl into his side. He still struggles to ask for things like this, but Eiji doesn’t hold it against him, because he’s an angel; he just gathers Ash close, knowing that right now, Ash is craving comfort.

He didn’t hurt Eiji. _He didn’t hurt Eiji._

When Eiji’s fingers start to card through his hair again, Ash closes his eyes, sinking into him. Eiji pauses for a moment to pull the blanket up to his shoulders, and then he’s stroking Ash’s hair again, slow and rhythmic and soothing. Ash sighs.

“You have been thinking you hurt me for all this time, Ash?” Eiji’s voice is as soft as his touch. Outside, thunder rumbles, low and ominous, but it doesn’t reach Ash, not while he’s safe in Eiji’s arms.

“…Yeah,” he admits, his voice small. “Thought… yeah. I did think that.”

“Oh, my darling Ash.” Eiji squeezes him tight, letting out a soft breath. “I promise you did not. You know that now, at least, right?”

Ash hesitates, then nods. “I… I think so.” Saying it out loud still feels strange.

“Okay.” Eiji gives him another squeeze. “I will tell you as many times as you need to hear it, so ask whenever you need. Whether that is right now, or in an hour, or tomorrow, or next month. Whenever. You did not hurt me. I was glad.”

“You thought it hurt me?” Ash asks softly, peeping up at him. 

Eiji nods, his expression endlessly tender. “I did. I should have brought it up sooner; I did not know it was causing you this much pain. My poor darling… But I am glad we are talking about it now, at least.”

“You didn’t hurt me.” Ash closes his eyes, nuzzling his cheek. 

He thinks back to that day, to the shitty prison food and the uncomfortable plastic chairs. About the pill he kept carefully hidden in his pocket, about how soft Eiji’s mouth was against his. It was surprisingly nice to kiss someone who didn’t grab him roughly or yank on his hair. 

“Honestly, it was my favorite time I ever kissed anyone.” He presses his lips to Eiji’s cheek, experimental, and finds that it feels fine. He kisses Eiji’s cheek again, and one more time, just to be sure it’s not a fluke—he’s kissed Eiji’s cheek before, the same way he’s kissed Nadia’s, but he didn’t know if it’d feel different after this conversation. But it doesn’t.

“Ash,” Eiji murmurs. When Ash opens his eyes, Eiji’s looking down at him, his eyes shining with wonder. He’s smiling again, too. Ash loves that smile. Eiji kisses his cheek, too, soft and sweet, and cradles him close in his arms. Then he grins. “It was my favorite time I ever kissed anyone, too.”

Ash surprises himself by snorting. “By the same token, it’s your least favorite, too.”

Eiji puffs out his cheeks, then shakes his head. “No. Favorite only. I do not have a least favorite. Your logic has no power over me.”

Unfortunately, Ash has no refutation of that. How’s he supposed to be irritatingly pedantic if Eiji decides he’s just gonna be illogical and insist on definitions having no meaning? Dipshit.

Eiji’s fingers brush his cheek. “You’re smiling,” he breathes, and very, very tenderly, he presses his lips to Ash’s forehead.

Ash’s breath catches in his throat. “I—I am?”

“Yeah.” Eiji’s smiling too, against his forehead. “You are, my darling.”

Ash hesitates for a moment. He likes when Eiji calls him things like this: _my sweet Ash, my dearest, my darling_. Those words have been used to hurt him, before, but in Eiji’s voice, they’re kind. They’re different. 

So maybe…

“You could try kissing me now,” he offers, nestling a little closer, soaking up Eiji’s warmth. “If you still want to.”

Eiji’s eyes widen, and then he melts, brushing his lips to Ash’s forehead. “I do still want to. But do _you_ want me to?” he asks, soft with concern again. “I do not want to kiss you if you only just want to _let_ me. I want you to _want_ it, Ash.”

Ash whines a little. It’s hard to put this into words, but… he’ll try.

“I think I do want it,” he starts. “I—I mean… I would never have thought I’d like it if anyone called me _darling_ or _sweetheart_ before, or kissed me even on the forehead and stuff, but… I do like it when you do it. Because it’s… different. Because you’re—you’re _you._ You’re good to me and I… it’s different, because you… you know?”

_ Because you love me and respect me and see me as human, not a doll or a possession.  _

Eiji’s expression softens in understanding, even with Ash’s bumbling attempt at an explanation. “You want to try kissing me, to see if it makes you feel loved, the same way that things like other physical affection and endearments make you feel loved, if they come from me?” 

Look at Eiji, showing off his ability to put words about emotions into actual sentences. Ash flushes, but nods, tipping his face up. He’s very aware of the vulnerability in this position; Eiji could kiss him right now. Ash is _asking_ him to. 

It’s not scary.

“Yeah?”

Eiji nuzzles his nose, pressing their foreheads together. He doesn’t kiss Ash yet, though; he just holds him close, tucking the blanket a little more securely around his shoulders. “Right now?” he asks, and lifts his head, kissing the tip of Ash’s nose. “You are sure? It will not hurt you? You will be okay?”

“You’re fussing,” Ash accuses, soft. Eiji is so, so good to him, so committed to making him feel safe, to taking care of him. Ash doesn’t know how he ever managed to win Eiji’s love, and perhaps it’s selfish of him to cling to it so fiercely, but he never wants to lose it. Even if he doesn’t deserve it.

Eiji pokes his side. “You deserve to be fussed over.”

Ash wrinkles his nose. “Do not.”

“Yes, you do. Do not try to argue this with me; I am more stubborn than you are, and you know it.” Eiji pecks the tip of his nose again and smiles, innocent and sweet. “You deserve to be fussed over, and I am going to fuss over you, and you cannot stop me. So there.”

…Well, there’s not much Ash can say to that.

He bumps his nose against Eiji’s cheek, a wordless little brush of affection, and takes a slow, careful breath. Eiji just wants to take care of him, and after how hard he cried, Ash is willing to let him.

“I want you to kiss me,” he says, voice small. “I want—is that okay?”

Eiji’s smile is the sun peeking through the clouds, even as thunder rumbles outside, and rain pitter-patters against the glass. “Yes,” he murmurs, and cradles Ash in his arms. “That is more than okay.”

Ash tips his face up, and closes his eyes. There’s a flutter of anticipation in his chest; kissing Eiji before was really nice, and that was before they both really loved each other. Will Eiji kissing him now make him feel loved, the same way Eiji holding him or kissing his hair makes him feel loved?

Eiji’s lips brush the corner of his mouth first, a soft little touch, not even a real kiss. His hand cradles Ash’s face, his thumb stroking along his cheekbone, and he hums softly. Ash’s heart skips a beat in his chest, not so much from the physical sensations as from just how _cherished_ he feels. Eiji is going so slow, being so gentle, just because he wants Ash to feel safe.

“Was that okay?”

“Yes,” Ash breathes. He doesn’t open his eyes yet. _“Yes.”_

Eiji lets out a soft, breathy chuckle, and then he leans in again. Ash’s heart flutters in his chest just as Eiji’s lips meet his for real, soft and lingering. The first thing Ash notices is that Eiji’s mouth is even softer than before; he’s finally been using lip balm like Ash told him to, and it’s _nice._ It tastes vaguely like strawberry candy.

The second thing he notices is that he feels _warm._ Not necessarily temperature-wise, though the blanket is pretty cozy; he feels warm inside. In his chest. Like there’s a little spark there, where before was constriction and pain, and the ice frozen there is thawing.

The third thing is that it’s over too soon, and Eiji’s pulling away. Ash finally opens his eyes.

Eiji is looking down at him with big, soft eyes of his own, smiling, his cheeks a little pink. He’s so, so beautiful.

“And that?” Eiji murmurs. “Was that okay?”

Ash reaches up, to touch Eiji’s cheek, marvelling at the warmth and smoothness of his skin. Eiji smiles at him, holding him close.

“It was wonderful,” Ash tells him, his voice soft and breathy. He feels _cherished._

“I’m glad.” Eiji kisses the corner of his mouth again, and then folds him into his arms, tucking Ash’s face into his neck. “My Ash. You can kiss me like that anytime you want.”

Anytime? That little spark of warmth grows.

“You can, too,” Ash tells him.

Eiji squeezes him tight. “Thank you for trusting me. I liked that a lot, too.”

“Yeah,” Ash murmurs, looking up at him. “You’re smiling.”

A loud clap of thunder outside startles them both, and then Eiji laughs, pulling the blanket back up to Ash’s head now. “You jumped like a cat,” he giggles, as Ash flops back down into his arms, heart still pounding. 

“It was _loud.”_ Great defense, right?

Eiji laughs again, and kisses his forehead. “Don’t worry. I will protect you from the scary thunder, and I will give you as many kisses as you want. Deal?”

Ash isn’t really sure what Eiji stands to get out of this deal, but he nods, snuggling in close. He just wants to lie here in the dimness, listening to the rain and Eiji’s heartbeat. That sounds nice. “Deal.”

A comfortable silence falls. Eiji’s fingers thread themselves into Ash’s hair again, Ash closes his eyes in bliss as he starts to stroke, slow and rhythmic and soothing. His eyes still feel sore and heavy from crying; a nap might be nice…

“Sleeping?” Eiji asks him, a few minutes later, as Ash dozes on his bare chest.

“Mm?”

Eiji laughs softly. Ash can feel it in his chest. “Okay, okay. Sleep. I will wake you when it is time for dinner.”

It’s a little funny, Ash thinks, as he drifts off to the rhythm of Eiji’s heartbeat. Eiji said he wishes he could have protected him, but lying here in his arms, Ash has never once felt safer.

**Author's Note:**

> i saw a tumblr post that in my opinion did ash dirty and i was mad about it. here we are, 8500 words later. you're welcome?
> 
> find me: { [tumblr](https://eijispumpkin.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/songbirdrimi) }


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